


Shell-shocked

by captain_shitpost



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Demisexuality, Discussion of Abortion, Domestic Fluff, Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Egg Laying, Eggpreg, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Fontcest, Giving Birth, Kedgeup, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Parenthood, Slice of Life, unsafe birthing practices, young parent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 13:34:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29029533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captain_shitpost/pseuds/captain_shitpost
Summary: Edge needed a place to stay ASAP, and Sans certainly doesn't mind a houseguest now that he's living alone. Edge is tired and cagey and is eating his weight in food every day, but Sans is there to help....He didn't quite expect an egg to come into the equation, though.
Relationships: Papyrus/Sans (Undertale)
Comments: 70
Kudos: 130





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Realized I never wrote Kedgeup despite actually really liking the ship so here I am, treating myself and ignoring all my other fics that need updating. Enjoy!

Sans’ sockets snapped open at the faint whirring sound coming from below. He blinked, his sleep-addled mind noting his bed was gently vibrating. He wondered for a few slow moments if there was an earthquake in the Underground before realizing that firstly, he had been on the surface for 2 years now, and secondly, the sound was the machine in his basement activating. He dragged himself upright with a tired groan, hoisting his legs to dangle off the edge of the bed. He rubbed his sockets, toed on his slippers, then shuffled to his bedroom door.

Downstairs he went and towards the basement door, the machine finally stopping its rumbling, signifying the interuniversal transfer was complete. Sans shivered slightly in the cold night air. He didn’t grab his hoodie but he wasn’t about to go searching for it, not when the footsteps he heard in the basement didn’t sound familiar. There were exactly 3 people he might expect to come out of the machine-Red, Stretch and Blue-and none of them had footsteps like _that_. A new universe making a connection was perfectly plausible, but without knowing what they were like Sans had no way to prepare for them. It was a bit rough when Red first came over, what with assuming he would get stabbed and reacting accordingly. He really wasn’t up to trying not to die at…what time was it anyways? 3am? 4?

He paused to the side of the door, leaning his skull carefully against the wood. He closed his sockets, listening intently. The footsteps were still there, but there was also the rustling of what sounded like a hand going through a bag, and no voice. Sans frowned. If it was one of those three, wouldn’t they have come out by now? And Sans tried really hard not to think about why they might make an unexpected visit at such an hour.

His perpetual smile pulled down at the edges. It could be Stretch maybe, but so late at night…was he hurt? Did something happen? Regardless, his magic was at the ready just in case he needed to get out. He mulled his next actions over, then with a nod to himself decisively knocked on the basement door. All the noise from inside stopped.

“hey, dunno who you are but I don’t mean any harm. wanna come on out and say hey?” he called out, voice no louder than it normally was but almost deafening in the quiet night.

“I-shit, it’s me! I mean, it’s Papyrus-I mean, Red’s brother!” rang out the slightly shrill voice, confusingly familiar until Sans registered the words themselves and felt his brows raise in surprise. He heard the very light footsteps up the stairs and moved away from the door as it swung open. Sure enough, Edge was standing there, seeming flustered and out of breath. Sans went to stick his hands into his pockets before remembering he didn’t have his hoodie on, so settled on folding his arms instead.

“huh. been a while, edge. how’s tricks?”

“I’m sorry for visiting so late,” Edge interjected, barreling over his question completely. Sans looked him over. No armour, unlike last time. Just a pair of nondescript black pants, a t-shirt and a worn sweater over it with the sleeves rolled up, and a lumpy and worn duffel bag swung over his shoulder. Somehow he assumed the guy lived in his Royal Guard armour, but he should know better than assume when he’d only met the guy once before. “It’s-something came up and... I’m sorry for waking you up.”

Sans met his sockets. They were a little too wide, brows a little too furrowed. He didn’t look mildly grumpy like he did last time, but genuinely frazzled and worried. At the very least, he never expected the guy to stumble over his words so much. He shrugged, then waved at him to follow. “it’s fine, I was gonna go for a midnight snack anyways. you want something to eat? drink?”

It took a few moments for steps to start following him, Edge much quieter when he walked than he was used to Papyrus being. Sans entered the kitchen, standing on his tippy-toes to grab a pair of cups from the cabinet and then putting a thing of coffee in his coffee maker, turning it on. He turned around to face Edge. The tall skeleton stood at the entrance of the kitchen, gaze darting everywhere, ending up on Sans and then lower on the floor. “coffee?”

“At 3am?” Edge countered. Sans shrugged.

“eh, it’s kinda nice if you put in enough creamer and sugar. ‘sides, I’m guessing I’m gonna be up for a little while anyways,” he answered. Edge huffed, grip tightening on his duffel bag.

“Well. Alright, then. Thank you.”

“geez, aren’t you polite,” Sans drawled, rifling through the lower cabinets until he pulled out a tin of butter cookies. “want a sandwich?”

“…No thank you,” Edge answered, gaze following the tin intently. Sans popped the lid open, then deposited the box near Edge’s elbow, and finally turned to the fridge to start pulling out ham, cheese and various condiments. He caught Edge sneaking a cookie from the box from his peripheral vision, smile twitching at the sight. He remembered Red always gazing longingly at their well-stocked fridge, too afraid to ask for food. How much he brightened up once he realized he’d always have a meal if he came over. He hoped at least here Edge would have a full belly.

Setting out to put a truly unfortunate amount of different condiments on the sandwich bread, he was interrupted by the coffee machine beeping. He poured the brew into the two cups, then put unholy amounts of creamer and sugar into his own cup, as well as a bit of cinnamon. “how’d you take your coffee, edgelord?”

“Still with the edgelord shit, huh,” he grumbled. “However you like, I’m not picky.”

Sans shrugged and made Edge’s cup the same as his own, and then added a bit of nutmeg too for good measure. He carried the cups off to the small living room table, with only 2 chairs to its name, and placed the cups on the old, discoloured tablecloth. He went back to finish up his sandwich, grabbed a jar of peanut butter pretzel sticks too-Papyrus’ midnight snack of choice-and carried it all off to the table. Maybe Edge was still too polite to ask for food, but hopefully the freely available snacks would entice him.

“Do you want me to bring the cookies there too?” Edge asked, voice a little to forcefully casual. Sans could barely keep himself from snickering.

“sure. come on, the coffee won’t stay warm forever.”

Edge sat down with his tin, gingerly picking up his own cup before wrapping his hands around it. Sans tucked into his sandwich, biting down into a slice of ham and pulling the entire piece out to chew on. Edge made an interesting face at that, but surprisingly stayed quiet. Huh. Sans expected a chiding from getting barbecue sauce on his face, but it seems Edge didn’t react the way he would expect Papyrus to. Surprising and yet not surprising. It’s not like Stretch was all that much like him, either.

Edge didn’t break the silence as he ate, his sockets merely widening at the first sip of his coffee before his shoulders seemed to unwind, and he grabbed a few more cookies along the way. Sans took a few of the pretzel sticks and then pushed the rest closer to Edge, who reluctantly grabbed a few too.

Sans finished off the sandwich by licking sauce off his fingers, moving on to his coffee next. He took a sip, enjoying the almost gingerbread-like quality of the drink, the warmth it brought to his soul. He let out a satisfied sigh, then put his cup down.

“so. this a social visit, edgelord?” he asked. Edge stiffened up once more, gaze darting away. Sans winced, raising his hands in a calming motion. “hey, I’m not mad, yeah? just want to know if something happened. I don’t mind you visiting if you want to, just didn’t expect it.”

Edge opened his mouth, then closed it and returned to his coffee. Sans enjoyed his coffee while he patiently waited him out and was rewarded with a reply a few minutes later. “I know we don’t…know each other very well. Given that we only met once. But my brother thinks very highly of you.”

Sans felt his face warm, raising his cup to cover his face. Damn it. Of course Red would do something as embarrassing as compliment him to his brother. “I just let him crash here sometimes, it’s not a big deal or anything.”

“Doesn’t change that he thinks highly of you,” Edge concluded, his face softening as he smiled. Sans blinked at him. He didn’t know the guy could smile like that, warm and radiant and erasing every bit the cold soldier he was most of the time. But it only lasted for a moment before he frowned and looked away again. “When we were saying goodbye… you said I could come to you if I needed help.”

A warm summer evening a year ago. Papyrus playing some kind of card game with Stretch and Blue that made all three of them scream and argue, Red somewhere in the kitchen, pillaging his snack stash. Edge sitting alone on the porch stairs, finally giving up on following Red wherever he went and instead sitting down and staring at the kitchen like a hawk. Scowling, brows still furrowed in worry even if he relaxed incrementally as the evening went on. Sans remembered being struck by how young he looked and yet how out of place he was with the tomfoolery the others got up to. “yeah, I remember.”

“I know this is a lot to ask, but…could I stay with you for a few days? If Papyrus is ok with it as well, of course,” he concluded, fingers tightening around the mug. Sans grabbed another pretzel stick.

“geez, you’re really out of the loop. he moved out to go to college a year ago, he’s not living here anymore. well, he visits whenever he has a longer weekend or vacation, but he doesn’t live here most of the time,” Sans said, waving the stick around.

“Oh. I didn’t know he moved out. My brother tends to be spotty with keeping me in the loop.”

“surprised you even want to be in the loop. Red talks about you all the time, but we barely talked to each other,” Sans said, then bit down on the stick.

“He spends a lot of his time here, of course I want to know what is going on! Who knows what kind of trouble he’s getting into when I’m not around?!” Edge exclaimed, a much more familiar expression of annoyance showing on his face. Sans grinned. He liked it a lot more than the distant meekness that he’d exuded this whole meeting.

“yeesh, talk about overprotective,” Sans said, just to see the taller skeleton’s sockets narrow at him. He leaned back into his kitchen chair. “sure, you can stay for a bit. papyrus’ room is probably a lot comfier than mine so I can put you up there.”

Edge blinked, twice, before opening his mouth and closing it again. He put the cup down and leaned forward. “…You’re letting me stay? That easily?”

“hey, I said I’d help you out if you need it. if you need a place to crash, that’s fine by me,” Sans answered, then held up a finger. “but. I have a condition.”

Edge sank into his seat, shoulders rising up to meet his ear holes. “Of course.”

“will you answer two questions for me?” he asked. Edge’s shoulders rose further, and it took him a few moments to finally nod. That told Sans enough-that he really didn’t want to get interrogated, and likely that he really didn’t want to share the reason he was doing this. Fair enough. “are you in danger?”

Edge frowned, then tilted his skull. “No more than the usual, living in my world. I didn’t pick a fight with the King or anything like that.”

Sans nodded. “alright. is red in danger?”

“No, and before you ask, I left him a note saying I was leaving. He knows I’m not kidnapped,” he answered, looking away. Probably expecting a lecture. Sans didn’t like that Red wasn’t in on whatever this was, but he wasn’t going to push it. Whatever Edge’s reasons were, he didn’t want to betray his trust and leave him with nowhere else to go to. After all, he was here with Sans instead of with his Undyne or someone like that. It must be something he couldn’t drag his close friends and family into.

“alright then. let’s get you settled in,” Sans concluded, stretching his arms above his head and then getting up. He needed to get the dirty dishes to the kitchen, but the late-or better yet, early-hour was getting to him. Eh, he’d get it in the morning. But instead of getting with the program, Edge uncoiled and then stood up, leaning forward like the bad cop in an interrogation scene.

“Wha-just like that?! You don’t even know why I’m here!” he hissed. Sans shrugged, then headed towards the door to the hallway.

“and you don’t want to spill, so it is what it is. ‘sides, as long as you two are alright I’m fine with it. did you bring anything to sleep in?”

He looked back at Edge, standing motionless in the kitchen, sockets wide, jaw slack. He wanted to take a picture of it, just for the hell of it. He watched the other skeleton look to the side, then shake his head. By the time he grabbed his bag and started following Sans, his steps were dragging and he was slumped over, like all the tension bled out of him and all he was left with was a sliver of energy to keep him from collapsing.

“I have a t-shirt I can sleep in,” he mumbled, surprisingly quiet. Sans went up the staircase and opened Papyrus’ door, then opened up the window to air out the slightly dusty room. He paid a nice Woshua to do a deep clean of the house occasionally-one of Papyrus’ rules when he left home-so it wasn’t too bad, but the air still felt a bit stale. Edge dropped the bag next to the bed, discreetly rubbing his sockets. He looked about ready to pass out, so Sans decided to keep things simple.

“alright, if you need clothes or new bedsheets they’re in the closet there, paps already took his nice clothes with him so you can take whatever is left in there. don’t break any of his stuff and try not to set the carpet on fire. He won’t be mad, he’ll just be disappointed if you do, but still. First door on the right is the bathroom, second door is me so knock if you need anything. you need a toothbrush?”

“No, I think I’ll just go to sleep now, thank you. Are you sure Papyrus would be fine with me staying in his room?” he mumbled. Sans raised an eyebrow.

“where else will you stay, my room? if papyrus learned I put a guest in there or on the couch, he’d throw me out the window,” Sans stated. He waited for a few moments for any questions, but as Edge kept eyeing the bed he figured he was set for now. Poor guy. Must really be something when a Papyrus wanted to go sleep. He walked back to the door. “night, don’t let the spiders bite.”

“I-I just need someplace to be by myself for a few days. Think about some things without Undyne coming in or my brother deciding to make me talk,” Edge blurted out, stopping Sans in his tracks. He turned back around to face Edge. “I’m really not in danger or anything like that.”

“neat. doughnuts sound good for breakfast?” Sans asked. Edge blinked at him sleepily, then nodded.

“Sure. Thank you, Sans,” he said, that mellow smile crinkling his sockets again. Sans’ own twitched in response.

“eh, it’s just some doughnuts. don’t worry ‘bout it.”

“Not just for the doughnuts, you ass,” Edge answered. Sans waved him off, then softly closed the door to Papyrus’ room. The ‘ONLY PAPYRUS ALLOWED’ sign was still hanging there, and he wondered, briefly, if he should change it now before realizing technically Edge wasn’t breaking the rule by being in there. He huffed a laugh to himself, then headed to his bedroom. His jaw hurt from how wide he yawned and he was fully ready to pass out for a few more hours. He’d get a visiting plan for his new guest figured out in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I had this idea of "what would happen if in Bright Eyes, it wasn't Red who got knocked up but Edge?" and I really liked the idea. It was super angsty, and it had delicious character development, etc. But as time went on and my ideas changed, it became a lot less angsty and a lot more fluffy cuz I guess I need me some fluff, and then I figured "hey, I love kedgeup, why not write that?" so I did that!
> 
> In the end, this fic ended up not having anything to do with Bright Eyes at all, and is not an au of it after all. But it's how it started.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Doughnuts and coffee.

Sans was halfway through drinking his bleary-eyed first cup of coffee the next morning when he remembered Edge was here, in his world, just a floor above him. Downing his drink, he put the cup back down, then shuffled towards his brother’s room to listen. To his surprise, it was silent. It was 10am so Edge must be awake already, perhaps reading a book or something to pass the time until Sans woke up and went to get the promised doughnuts.

“morning, edgelord, I’m coming in,” Sans called out, waited for a few moments, then opened the door. The room was dark, curtains drawn, and he looked over Papyrus’ desk, then the floor, and finally at the bed. His sockets widened. Edge was still in bed, face down and drooling across his pillow, snoozing away even after Sans called out to him.

Red was a deep sleeper by nature, but something about his world taught him to snap awake the instant something moved near him. And yet here Edge was, sleeping in until late, and his only reaction to the noise Sans made was to burrow deeper into the blankets with a huff and then settle down again. Sans closed the door carefully, perplexed, then with a shrug made his way to the bathroom.

It didn’t take him long to clean up and dress in clothes that passed the sniff check, so he left a note for Edge on the dining table and headed out to Muffet’s. He decided to walk, soak up some vitamin D instead of taking a shortcut, enjoying the warmth on his bones on the rare sunny fall day. It was weird, how quickly he got used to sunlight. He expected it to take a while, getting used to the smell of fresh air or the warmth or the way he had to squint to see on sunny days, but by the end of the first month on the surface he already felt off when the clouds rolled in. The rain had its own charm, though-it reminded him of waterfall, of sitting on the damp grass and listening to the trickle of water. And then there was the snow, painful and beautiful and nostalgic and new. He looked forward to it as much as he dreaded it.

But for now, he had the Sun.

Muffet had a small chime on her door that rang a peal of bells whenever someone walked into her dark storefront. People didn’t tend to stick around and sit at the tables with their cobwebbed chairs and the dark curtains only letting a sliver of daylight in, but there was always someone around-human or monster-ordering her baked goods.

Muffet wasn’t holding down the front this morning, it was a probably teenaged bird monster instead. He bagged up the previous customer, a little old human lady that smelled slightly of lavender, and then squawked when he turned to Sans. “Hello, welcome to Muffet’s Parlour! What can I get you?” he called out.

Sans looked over the display, eyeing the prices. Good, they were still at her new surface low instead of the prices she had in the Underground. The capricious spider had a tendency to randomly jack up or lower prices, but these days she stuck to a much more acceptable range than she used to, since she didn’t need to save up so much money. Sans may not be broke, but he would be if he went ahead and bought a few of her pastries if they were still that expensive.

“can I get half a dozen donuts to go?” Sans asked, looking at the pastries themselves. There were at least 10 different kinds, and he had no idea which ones Edge might even like.

“Sure thing, which ones would you like?” answered the guy, walking up to the display case with the box precariously held in between his wings, then grabbed a pair of serving tongs with his clawed foot, clicking them together a few times.

“gimme a mix, anything you think is good,” Sans answered, eyeing the apple pie. He wondered if it was better than Toriel’s. Unlikely, but a tantalizing idea. The teen chirruped in reply, then with stunning dexterity and speed placed 6 different donuts precisely in the box. The box then went into a paper bag, as did most monster shopping, and then the kid hopped to the counter and placed it there. Sans could see why Muffet hired him.

“Alright, here you go! Cash or credit?” he asked. Sans pat himself over to find his wallet, checked to see if his credit card was in there, then dug back into his jacket when the card slot was absent. The card was hiding in his inner jacket pocket along with a few errant dollars, and he finally managed to pay for his purchase.

“see ya, kid. don’t do school, go to drugs, etcetera.”

The kid snorted at him. The giant weed t-shirt was nowhere near hidden by his apron, and Sans decided to very stealthily slip a few dollars into the tip jar while the kid was talking to the next customer. What a good kid, working a proper job to buy his weed. Sans just sold potato chisps to stoners for double the retail price when he was his age.

It took him only a few steps outside to step into a shortcut directly into his home. Then, remembering he had a guy in his house who might very well stab first and ask questions later if surprised, made sure to kick off his shoes and put on slippers as loudly as he could to alert him. He scuffed them across the old wooden flooring as he made his way to the dining table, where he deposited the donut box. Next, more coffee. He went to the kitchen and made his way to the coffee maker, yawning all the way. Maybe he should have bought the fancy artisanal coffees from Muffet’s. Sure, they cost a pretty penny, but the whipped cream and marshmallows might be interesting to Edge. He seemed receptive to his own take on coffee yesterday, maybe he would like some caramel mocha bullshit sugarbomb?

However, he only realized once he was trying to fit a new coffee cartridge into the coffee maker than there was fresh, still hot coffee inside. He raised his brow. Edge must have gotten up at some point, no other explanation, but then where was he?

Sans poured himself a cup and carried it out, looking up to the couch and doing a full body flinch when he saw Edge there, staring at him with his own cup raised silently up to cover most of his mouth. Sans let a breath out slowly, clutching his hand to his ribcage.

“You spilled some,” Edge stated. Sans looked at the coffee dripping down his hand and onto his slippers.

“sure did,” he squeezed out. He placed his now wet cup onto the table with a sigh, then headed to the kitchen to grab some tissues. If it was just him he might have left the coffee spillage on the floor, but he really didn’t want Woshua to give them another lecture the next time they came, and he supposed he should behave with a guest around. He only heard Edge’s faint footsteps while he was soaking the paper, the taller skeleton stopping beside him.

“I can get that,” Edge offered, grip on his own cup tightening. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“no biggie, I’ll get it. you grab yourself a donut and sit back down, alright?” Sans said, waving him off. Edge hovered for a few moments but finally tip-toed back out, stepping carefully around the stain. Sans mopped it up in seconds, and only after he was done and had thrown away the tissues did Edge flop onto the couch. He moved as if he had worked for a week straight and sank into the couch as if he hadn’t slept in just as long. Sans raised his brows, then picked up the doughnut box and placed it on the small coffee table.

Edge refused to budge while Sans removed the sticky tape ensuring the box was shut, but he felt those eye lights following the custard crème doughnut Sans helped himself to. Only after Sans leaned back and tucked in, still not used to the lack of spiders in the batter, did Edge move to grab one with a cinnamon-apple filling.

“Thank you for the food,” Edge mumbled, ducking his head.

“thanks for making coffee,” Sans replied, and that was that while they made their way through their breakfast. Sans thought that buying a six pack would ensure at least 2 doughnuts left over for snack time, but to his surprise Edge devoured three in one sitting, and Sans decided against eating his third doughnut in order to fork it over to Edge. Edge seemed embarrassed to have eaten so much, but the way his sockets widened and how reverently he looked at the last doughnut convinced Sans he made the right choice.

After breakfast Edge insisted on helping with chores, and no amount of Sans dissuading him could get him to back off. Sans wasn’t happy that Edge was so enthusiastic to work-the image of the skeleton dead to the world in his bed playing in his mind and activating a whole lot of big brother instincts-but he decided to leave him be. He didn’t want the guy to anxiously fret the whole time because he wasn’t allowed to work, and he obviously felt the need to “pay” for his stay at Sans’ house, despite him not wanting or needing that at all. Sans could insist on him lying down, resting up, catch up on his missed meals, but he also knew that stubborn set to his jaw from his own brother and knew it wouldn’t work.

So Sans set him on what he assumed would be an easy chore: clean the dishes. He thought Edge would only clean the two cups from breakfast and a few errant plates from yesterday, but when he checked in half an hour later Edge had move onto cleaning the fridge, the sink already sparkling behind him.

Sans installed himself on the couch, turning the TV on as background noise but focusing more on the skeleton in the kitchen. Edge had been very tired since he came here, to the point of passing out for the whole night and his movements seeming sluggish. Even his vigorous scrubbing of the fridge shelves seemed slow, and Sans noticed how often Edge stopped to take a break, leaning on the shelves to catch his breath. And then his appetite. Such an increase in appetite combined with lethargy could be a sign of chronic malnutrition in monsters and was a definite possibility in Edge’s world. Edge didn’t move like he was moving around an injury, so he was pretty sure that wasn’t the issue, but that still left him with lots of worries. It could even be some kind of illness, sapping at his magic reserves.

Sans was going off a whole load of assumptions, though. He met the guy one time, and while that time he struck him as just as physically strong and resilient a guy as Papyrus, it was perfectly possible the skeleton did need normal amounts of sleep or more food than average to get through the day. Sans was going to make sure he had good meals and a place to properly rest, but it did make him worry about what was going on with Red. If Edge was hungry, was Red hungry too? Did he need a place to recover?

Edge wouldn’t leave his brother back in his world if that was the case, though. He remembered how Edge looked at his brother, how Red endlessly complained with a smile on his face how Edge mother henned him, and he remembered how upset but not horribly worried he had seemed yesterday. Whatever was going on with him, he was sure Red was fine. Instead he pulled out his phone, opening his text chain with Papyrus. Last message had been Sans roasting his attempt at microwaveable cake, and Papyrus replying with a barrage of texts defending his honour and a ‘GOODNIGHT, SANS’.

**You:** hey bro guess who moved into your room

Predictably it only took moments for a reply.

**coolbro:** SOMEONE WHO WILL ACTUALLY CLEAN THE DAMN BATHTUB AFTER SHOWERING???

**You:** hey watch your fucking language

**You:** its the edgelord. red’s bro

**coolbro:** OH, THAT’S NICE! IS IT JUST HIM OR DID RED DRAG HIM THERE?

**You:** just him. he said red is alright and he needs a place to crash for a bit

**coolbro:** THAT’S UNUSUAL FOR HIM, BUT HE’S WELCOME TO STAY!!! MAKE SURE HE’S COMFORTABLE AND BE A GOOD HOST! DON’T LET HIM DO EVERYTHING AROUND THE HOUSE!!!

Sans looked towards the kitchen. Edge had finished scrubbing down the fridge and had now apparently started sharpening the knives.

**You:** sure

**coolbro:** AND DON’T WORRY ABOUT HIM TOO MUCH. I KNOW YOU HAVE TO FRET, BUT HE WILL TALK TO YOU IF HE NEEDS TO.

Sans smiled at the phone. Damn it, his bro always knew exactly how to read him.

**You:** I hope so too. something is up with him, but I don’t think he’ll tell me what

**coolbro:** THEN THE BEST THING YOU CAN DO IS WHAT YOU’RE ALREADY DOING! AND I’M PROUD OF YOU FOR HELPING HIM!

**You:** thanks bro you’re the best

**coolbro:** NATURALLY! LOVE YOU, BROTHER!

**You:** u 2 cooldude

Papyrus finished the conversation off with a meme of some anime catgirl, so Sans placed his phone back in his shorts pocket. He went back to watching Edge sharpen the knives, wondering if he should be worried. Not so much for him, he has practice evading sharp objects, but for Edge. He was pretty sure sharpening knives while tired was a good way to lose a finger.

The second episode of the Great British Bakeoff was just starting when Edge finally put everything away, coming out of the kitchen and leaning on the door frame seemingly nonchalantly. Sans noticed the tension in his body holding him up, the thin sheen of sweet on his vertebrae, the strain around Edge’s sockets.

“you really didn’t have to clean the whole kitchen, edge. you should be resting up.”

“Nonsense!” Edge immediately countered, pushing off the doorframe, spine straight and arms crossed. “I don’t need rest! I’m perfectly capable of cleaning one measly kitchen!”

“so it’s measly now, huh?” Sans said with a grin. He could see Edge blink and then grow horrified as his own words registered, but before he could erupt into apologies Sans tapped the empty couch next to his armchair. “come on, take a load off. my house, my rules, and my rules say napping is mandatory.”

Edge gave him a Look, but he did concede and sit down, sprawling across the sofa. Sans grabbed a washed-out yellow blanket from the little blanket pile he was nestled into, one that came with them from the Underground and smelled like the fabric softener Papyrus liked, and threw it onto Edge. Edge seemed very confused as the blanket fluttered onto his body, then with a huff he stuck his feet out under the bottom and nestled in a bit deeper into the pillows, adjusting the one under his skull.

Sans heard his breathing slow down into the kind of sleepy puffs people made when they didn’t snore in their sleep before the episode ended, so he just turned down the sound slightly and relaxed in his own seat. It was nice, having someone breathing in the same room as him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy that skeleton needs some serious naps. He's lucky Sans got him to the couch before he passed out while scrubbing the bathtub.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edge makes himself some food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. You might wanna take another gander at the tags on this fic.
> 
> While I do mean to make this fic overall fluffy and comforting, and don't worry there will be more Edge pampering coming soon, I feel it's disingenuous to act like Edge wouldn't have a LOT of baggage in regards to having children, or even in regards to how to interact with other people when not in Underfell. He has, in the end, grown up in a world where support is rare, murder is common, and where getting attached can be a death sentence. And nothing gets you quite as attached and vulnerable as having a child does.

“…so you know where the food is, take anything you like. I showed you how to open the doors and windows, you can go out in the yard if you want but if you wanna go explore outside you should probably wait for me to come back so I can show you around and you don’t get lost. you have my number and you can call me anytime and I’ll come help-”

“Sans, I understand you’re enthusiastic about skipping out on your job to help me, but I will not give you more reason to do so than necessary,” Edge stated, raising a brow. Sans’ grin widened.

“alright, alright. welp. have fun while I’m gone and rest up, alright?”

“I don’t need to rest up at all but thank you! Have a good day,” Edge said, then after a nod watched Sans head towards the front door, suddenly disappearing between one step and the next. Edge sighed, feeling his shoulders droop down and his folded arms drop to his sides, allowing himself to look as tired as he felt. God, he had no idea he’d end up like this. It’s a good thing he wasn’t back in his own universe, trying to get through his patrol shifts when he could barely stand up for long.

Edge gave the entrance hallway a once-over. It wasn’t so spotless he couldn’t mop the floor or vacuum, but it wasn’t so bad he really needed to either-surprising, given that Sans lived here alone most of the time. He went to the living room to straighten out the pillow and blanket piles at least, his legs feeling a bit wobbly just from him being upright. Edge glared at the neat pile of blankets, knowing it was irrational to feel like they were judging him, then headed towards the kitchen.

The first thing he did, now that Sans was officially gone for the first time since he came here, was open and check what was inside every single cabinet and drawer in the kitchen. He already knew the contents of the fridge, so he instead focused on the rest of the place, and then moved on to the various tins on top of the shelves. His magic woke up at the sights, demanding yet another meal, but Edge kept making a mental checklist of the cookies, chisps, saltines, fruit, sandwich toppings, and various leftovers. And that was not even counting all the as-of-yet uncooked ingredients!

It was more food than Edge was used to having just lying around. Red and him had money enough to make sure they were fed these days, thank fuck, but there were still shortages when the whole of Snowdin got a little lean. And even on the good days, they’d have enough for a few meals, maybe a snack or two. Nothing like this. And with all this Sans still went out to buy more doughnuts.

Edge grit his teeth, whether from hunger or from the unfairness of it all, he didn’t know. But he wasn’t going to hold it against Sans. Of course he stocked up on food when it became available, who wouldn’t? And there was no guarantee it had been any better undeground for them, either. He wasn’t going to assume this world’s Sans and Papyrus had peachy-keen lives just because his own world was a shitshow. He wouldn’t assume Sans knew nothing of hunger.

Still. He could feed himself and his brother with this much for weeks if he dosed it out carefully. And, of course, if he didn’t keep eating at the same rate as he had recently.

His magic rolled, demanding more sustenance once again, verging on nauseating now. Edge frowned, then with a sigh of defeat he headed to the fridge to grab things for a sandwich. Only one. He refused to eat all of Sans’ food, no matter how hungry he was.

He had three sandwiches on his plate and a glass of chocolate milk by the time he had put everything away again and made his way back to his temporary room. He placed the dishes on the desk, then opened the balcony door. He’d made sure to explore Papyrus’ room yesterday, not checking his drawers or wardrobe so as to not invade Papyrus’ privacy, even if Sans okayed it, but he did check for any traps, hidden doors, and how well the windows closed.

That’s how he found the door to the balcony and the balcony itself, hidden by curtains at first. The balcony was small, just enough space for a worn plastic table and lawn chair, and from the scuffs on the table it was either bought second hand or Papyrus used to use it often. Edge could get why. The brother’s backyard was a bit overgrown, but nicely shaped shrubs blocked most of it from outside view, and the tree (Edge had no idea what kind it was) always housed a few grey birds, making strange sounds he couldn’t describe as anything close to chirps. There were also smaller brown birds that came over sometimes, but not too often, their own chirps echoing through the area. It was peaceful, all in all. Edge carried his food over to the table, sat down in the chair, kicked his legs out in front of him, then tucked into his meal.

It felt like a vacation, lounging here in the sunlight. No guard duties that he couldn’t skip without screwing another guard over, no fights breaking out he had to quell just when he’d taken off his armour and had headed in for a lukewarm shower, no sitting on the couch trying to figure out if Red was late because he got drunk at Grillby’s, again, or if he was in trouble and needed his help, deciding between risking Red chewing him out for being overprotective and the clawing fear that his brother was dusting alone somewhere. Well, maybe he was still worrying about all of that, but it was hard to feel it as viscerally while sitting in the peaceful, fresh surface air.

Edge didn’t know how he’d get himself to leave this universe in a few days. How his brother managed to visit here so often and then still come back to their world. There was a reason Edge had refused to come here after the first time, and it was because he didn’t trust himself to say no to this world once he got a proper taste of it.

His gaze drifted again to his meal, as large as his current appetite demanded. He picked the plate up and tucked in, groaning at the taste of fresh ham and some kind of vegetable spread he couldn’t identify, making his way through the large meal as fast as he could while still chewing his food properly. He made all this and there was still enough food to feed him and Sans for another week, easily. He’d be able to feed the baby if he had them here.

He eyed his duffel bag. Apart from clothes and hygiene things, the only other objects of importance there were in one of the inner pockets: his phone, a red notebook and a small jar holding a magic disrupting powder, in case he decided to use it. Guaranteed to disrupt the flow of magic between the souls of a monster and their still attached, developing offspring.

_If_ he had the baby. That was the question. If.

Edge curled his legs up closer to his body, placing his plate in between his ribcage and his knees, one hand holding food and the other curling around his legs. He didn’t have much longer, now. The tiny soul started out as a small bump on his own, larger and dimmer, soul, one he wouldn’t have even reacted to if he hadn’t been looking for a reason for his sudden exhaustion a few weeks back. But the last time he’d worked up the nerve to look at it, which was just before coming here, the tiny soul was almost fully formed, tiny and fragile and properly shaped and only needed a bit more to break off on its own, wrapped in a cocoon of his magic that made a shell and kept it safe while it formed its own body. Only a little while longer until his window for terminating closed, and he was left with a living egg he’d need to either raise himself or put up for adoption.

Edge looked towards the tree, watching the grey birds make their weird noises at each other in the dense branches. He refused to ever put a child in an orphanage. Not after what he and Red went through, not after what they barely survived, the scars it left. He’d rather be the kind of person to snuff them out before they were born than to know they were suffering due to his decisions. He felt he owed them that much.

All he really wanted was some time to himself to think. He didn’t want to talk to Red or to Undyne, because they loved him, and because of that they’d bend over backwards to help him. But he didn’t know what he wanted their help with, not until he knew what he wanted for himself. Did he want their support after he aborted, or did he want their help while he tried to raise a child when he was only 23?

And a small part of him wondered if they _would_ support them. They always had before, and he knew they both cared for him, would lay their lives on the line for him. They had before, just as he had for them. But would they actually be ok with him getting an abortion, or would they judge him as cruel, irresponsible? Would they actually help him if he decided to raise a kid, sacrifice his job and safety for them, or would they just be disappointed he didn’t take better care of himself and leave him to clean up his own mess?

He placed the now empty plate on the table and then thunked his skull on his knees, wrapping both arms tight around his legs. He already knew Red would be upset. He’d spent his teens listening to his lectures about how to stay safe during heats, to take heat suppressants and suffer through them alone, not go out and have sex and risk a baby. But Red’s heats were much milder than Edge’s, easy to weather, meanwhile Edge would suffer in pain and disorientation for a week, even with the pills, and the pills themselves made him unbearably nauseous…

He figured it would be quicker just to have a regular heat and fuck it out. More painless, faster to just get it over with. Even fun, to a certain extent. Comforting, when nobody else touched him as gently or held him as tightly as when he was sharing a heat with someone. He thought the risk was worth it.

And look at him now. Red would be right to laugh at him. He knew what an idiot he was, thank you very much, he just wished he wasn’t so stupid that he didn’t know what to do now, when his poor decisions came to bite him in the pelvis.

It would be easier, wouldn’t it? If he just took the medicine, suffered for a day or two, then made his way back home and continued living his life as normal. Maybe that was the smarter decision than fumbling his inept way into being a good parent. He didn’t even have a parent. Red was the closest thing to one he had, and he wasn’t even sure sometimes who was taking care of whom. He was grateful for his brother and his sacrifices, but still.

Edge got up and headed inside, grabbing the tiny notebook he took with himself, then, after realizing he forgot to pack a pen, very gingerly ruffled his way through Papyrus’ desk drawers to find one. He finally settled on a blue glitter pen, amazed at the idea that one could just go out and get a full set of glitter pens here on the surface. He wondered if he could get a set of his own, before casting the idea aside. He had more important worries to think about.

He took his seat again, this time bending over the table and his notebook. He sipped on his glass of milk while he made two titles on two neighbouring pages: pro and con. He wondered if there was, perhaps, something intrinsically wrong with him for making a list of reasons to keep a child, instead of just instinctually feeling what the correct thing to do was, but he put that aside for now. He didn’t have any better ideas at this point.

The con list seemed easier to start with, so he got right to it. In it went a slew od varying reasons:

_I’M 23 AND BARELY CONSIDER MYSELF CAPABLE OF MAKING GOOD CHOICES_

_I’M NOT SURE I CAN KEEP THEM AND MY BROTHER SAFE IN MY WORLD_

_I’M NOT SURE I CAN KEEP MY JOB IF I HAVE THEM_

_IF I RAISE THEM HERE, HOW WILL I AFFORD ANYTHING?_

_HOW WILL I FEED THEM???_

_I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT RAISING BABIES??????_

_THEY DESERVE MORE THAN I CAN GIVE THEM_

He blinked his sockets rapidly, the stinging in them threatening. He looked away from his last entry in the list, taking another sip of milk. He wasn’t going to cry until he finished his list, so help him Asgore. So he moved onto the pro list instead.

_IF I LIVE HERE WITH THEM THEY’LL BE SAFE AND EASIER TO FEED_

_RED KNOWS ABOUT RAISING BABIES, AND I WILL HAVE A FEW MONTHS TO LEARN ABOUT PARENTING WHILE THE EGG MATURES_

_RED AND UNDYNE MIGHT HELP_

He paused here, staring at the paper. He tapped it a few times with the wrong side of the pen, then wrote one more line.

_SANS MIGHT HELP_

Edge stared at the pages, scanning the contents. There were more arguments, he was sure, but none he could think of now, so he capped his borrowed pen and put it aside. He had two neat lists now, the con predictably having more persuasive arguments, and yet when he considered the answer might really be this simple, he hesitated.

It was scary, to decide to have the egg. A giant unknown, something he couldn’t truly prepare for, completely out of his control and experience. If he didn’t have it his life would return to normal, albeit with the lesson learned to take safe sex more seriously, and wasn’t that what he wanted, really?

But there was an idea forming in his skull, unclear, fragmented, but charged with emotion. Edge wondered, for the first time, about the future. Not as an abstraction, that he would become a parent and have to take care of a child and probably fail miserably. Instead he suddenly had an image of an egg, the size and colour of the one he saw the bunny shopkeeper hold with her during work hours, large and faintly glowing. He had no idea what monster eggs felt under his fingers, but he imagined what it would feel like to put his hand on it, hold it in his lap. He had an idea of falling asleep holding it close to his body, giving it magic to sustain itself and it pulsing in return, as he’d heard people say they do.

An egg. His egg. Something-a future someone-he could love, without forcing himself to tone his emotions down, where his love wouldn’t be thrown in his face. Where it wouldn’t be weird that he felt so strongly about someone. Where he knew he would have to love unconditionally, no matter what, no matter how they felt for him. Where, perhaps, they could bring him comfort on some days, and he would know exactly why he got up every time he got kicked down.

Edge rubbed his ribcage, the stinging in his sockets building up to a distinct wetness. He liked the idea, he thought. He really, really did.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go to Walmart.

Sans raised his brows at the contents of his fridge. It wasn’t empty, not by a long shot, but all the deli meats were conspicuously absent, half of the previously full jar of peanut butter was gone, as well as a good amount of the fruits and veggies. Sans closed it, not as enthusiastic about a sandwich now that he didn’t have any of his favourite ingredients for it. Instead he headed for the snack cabinet-the one to the left of the sink- but his brows just raised even more when he saw the demolition there. It wasn’t totally empty, but the previously crowded shelves were looking a bit bare, missing the peanut butter flavoured snacks and almost all the chocolate. Seems Edge had preferences. Sans grabbed a bag of chisps and closed the cabinet. Even with his appetite Edge refused to eat something as greasy as chips. Amazing, really.

He popped the bag open and dived in, licking the crumbs off his fingers in between handfuls. He needed to go grocery shopping. In the few days Edge had been staying here he sure made a dent in his food reserves. Sans had zero intention of stopping him-the kid really seemed to need his rest and noms for some reason-and whenever he offered to cut back Sans just thought of how shitty it would feel, to be surrounded by food but not allowed to eat your fill. He couldn’t do that to him, so instead he finished his pack of chips, then headed up to Papyrus’-well, Edge’s room, for now.

The door was cracked open this time, but Sans still knocked on the door as he made his way in. He immediately looked at the balcony, where Edge had poked his head into the room from. “Sans. Need anything?”

“need to go to the grocery store. you wanna come with?”

Edge looked at him for a moment, brow raising. Then, elegantly, he stepped inside the room and closed the balcony door behind him. “I’d like that, yes. Do I need to prepare in some way?”

“putting some pants on is a good start. they kick you out of the store if you don’t have any,” Sans stated. Edge rolled his eye lights at him.

“Imagine that. How dangerous do you expect this to be, exactly?” Edge asked. Sans only raised a confused brow, which made Edge sigh in annoyance. “What are your stores like? What are the odds of someone attempting to pickpocket us? Attack us? What about the humans?”

Sans met his gaze, watching Edge’s face solidify from the somewhat fragile expression he’d been wearing so far into something a lot more serious. He wondered if this was how he looked like when doing patrols. “i haven’t been attacked or robbed so far. some humans make snide comments or give you looks, but most don’t care enough to do anything and just want to buy their Cheetos and go home.”

Edge nodded, seemingly mollified. Out of his duffel bag, still not unpacked, he dug out a worn leather jacket and put it on in a fluid motion. It was scuffed at the elbows and edges, as were most clothes that came from the Underground, but it still looked cool on him. After that he pulled out a wallet and-to Sans’ hidden amusement-clipped the chain on it to his belt loop and shoved it in his pocket. He turned around, hands on his hips, serious face on, looking more like he was about to intentionally walk into a barfight than into Walmart.

“I’m ready,” Edge proclaimed, as if awaiting a military inspection. Sans just gave him a thumbs up and headed downstairs, waited for Edge to put on his shoes, then into the garage, Edge’s quiet, shuffling footsteps behind him the whole time. He flicked on the switch and after a few seconds the lights blinked on, and then he dug the garage door opener out of his pocket and clicked it. The door noisily started rising upwards, basking the tiny, beat up two-seater in the late morning sunlight.

“I didn’t know you had a car,” Edge said, voice subdued. Sans turned to look at him. There was excitement in his sockets, even if his body language looked like he was coolly and only politely interested in the machine. Sans snickered.

“yeah, old girl isn’t a bad ride,” he said, walking around to unlock the driver’s door and entering. He had to lean over and manually unlock the passenger door to allow Edge in, watching as he carefully folded himself into the small space. “used to get around with a tricycle but the police told me I can’t go on the highway with it so I had to get some proper wheels. thought about getting a scooter but eh, my skull’s too big for the helmets. so I got this beauty used.”

“I see. Is it difficult to learn to drive a car?” Edge asked.

“eh, not too bad. the traffic rules are a pain and it takes a bit to get used to it but it’s not the hardest thing I’ve ever done. if i got through statistical mechanics, I can learn how to drive stick, right?”

Edge nodded, leaning harder into his seat. “Do you think I can learn to drive while I’m here?”

“might take you a bit longer than a few days, bud, but who knows” Sans explained, adjusting the rearview mirror. “alright, buckle up and we can go.”

Edge took a few seconds and some instruction to find the seatbelt and figure out how it works, but soon enough they were pulling out into the driveway and onto the narrow street. Sans headed down the familiar road to the store-the only route he really drove, since he just teleported everywhere if he didn’t need to lug bags of groceries across town-all the while explaining to Edge how the stick shift worked, different gears, the pedals, narrating merging lanes and pulling into a parking stop. He only got honked at for going too slow twice this time, so either people weren’t in a rush today or Edge’s proximity was turning him into a speed demon.

They got out after coming to a final stop, Edge predictably faster to scramble his way out even though he’d only encountered car doors and seatbelts for the first time today. He was standing at attention, waiting for Sans to pull out his bag filled with bags to take inside. Sans kept an eye on Edge, chatting on about how car engines worked or at least repeating what Papyrus told him about them. Edge seemed interested in his blathering, but he wasn’t focused on it like he was in the car-his posture was stiff as he scanned the humans milling around the parking lot, the crowd pretty small given the time of day but still intimidating if you weren’t used to it.

Sans thought for a moment, then placed his hand on Edge’s arm, holding his jacket sleeve with his thumb and forefinger. Edge looked down at him, confused.

“relax. we’ll be fine. ‘sides, you got me to bail you out if we get into a tight spot, right?” Sans said with a wink. Edge huffed out an amused breath, but his mouth quirked slightly at the edges, so Sans considered it a win. He led him in by the sleeve, only letting go once they reached the carts and he grabbed one, the handlebar just a bit too high for comfort.

“welp, welcome to the big ol’ surface stores. i’ve got a list, but you can look around and pick up stuff you like, alright?” Sans explained, pushing the car through the little gate and into the store proper. Edge stuck close to Sans’ side, looking around with a mix of trepidation and curiosity.

“I’m not sure where anything is, anyways. What do we need to buy?” Edge asked. Sans pulled out his cracked phone and found the note app, then dug through the 30 notes he had in it until he found the grocery list from a month ago and handed it over to Edge.

“sandwich things, snacks and milk. you wanna go look around or do you wanna stick with me?”

“I’ll stick with you,” Edge replied immediately. “First on the list is cheese and…what’s pastrami?”

“it’s tasty,” Sans replied. Edge gave him a look.

“Alright, but what is it?”

“food, I think,” Sans concluded. Edge let out a deep sigh and resigned himself to following Sans’ lead, all the while looking out for non-existent attackers. Sans nudged Edge for his attention constantly while they were walking around, asking if he wanted to try a specific kind of candy, if he wanted an extra packet of spreadable cheese, did he want to try chocolate milk. Edge always said no at first, that it wasn’t necessary, but every time Sans could see that burning hunger and curiosity in his sockets, so he argued and nagged until Edge would concede and he could stuff another item into their cart. By the time they exited the food aisles they had not obeyed the list at all and instead picked out impressive amounts of ready-to-go food, and Edge looked almost guilty when looking at the cart.

Sans tried to talk up how excited he was to eat the food too, try and make him feel less responsible for the overabundance, less burdened to say no and do some self-sacrificing schtick. He hoped that, with their shelves restocked and with Edge having seen the store filled with food even after their trip, he’d be a bit less insecure about his next meal. He didn’t like pushing Edge, necessarily, but the last thing he wanted was for the tall skeleton to be timid about basic necessities like food and sleep. He’d always felt painfully useless whenever Red visited, knowing he and his brother were stuck in murderworld and unwilling to leave it behind. The only thing he could do was offer a place for recuperation, where they wouldn’t have to worry about the next day. And that would have to be enough.

Their food stocks replenished, Sans tried to steer Edge towards the clothing section-taking the moment to catch his breath for what would likely be another round of trying to convince Edge he could buy things he needed-but when he turned to face him he noticed he was gone. His soul immediately rolled in a panic as he looked around to try and spot him, and thankfully he was only a few aisles behind him, standing still and staring inside. Sans pulled his cart backwards to stop at his side and look in as well.

It was the kid isle, colourful and housing a human kid and their dad looking at the shelves. At the start were some kid toys like stuffies and building blocks, while further down were baby supplies. Sans sneaked a sideways look at Edge. He barely seemed to have noticed Sans at his side while staring at the shelves, expression unreadable even to Sans. He wondered if, maybe, the toys reminded him of his own childhood, likely not nearly as colourful and soft as all the toys were.

“you, uh…wanna go in?” Sans asked, delicately. Edge jolted in place, looking down at Sans as if he didn’t realize he was there, then after a moment shook his head.

“No, no, I just…got lost in my own head,” Edge replied. Sans raised a brow.

“you sure? i won’t judge you if you want a toy, edge-”

“No. Thank you. Let’s move on,” Edge interrupted, the set of his jaw betraying his annoyance. Sans let the matter drop, and with a final look to the kid aisle he followed after Edge. “What else is on the list.”

“that’s it for food, but I was thinking if you want to check out the clothing section we can. I figure since you wanna go back home getting some new clothes would be nice,” Sans said, pointing down at the clothing aisle. Edge’s face softened again, mulling the idea over, then nodded.

“You have a point. It’s hard to find enough clothes to wear back home when I keep ripping it up during my shifts, so it might be smart to stock up,” Edge muttered. That decided, they turned into the aisle. The same amazement that graced Edge’s face when they looked at food returned at the sight of the clothing selection, an array of colours, styles and sizes available. Edge almost rushed past the baby clothes section and stopped in front of the wide selection of tops, reaching out to touch a shirt, stopping, then finally touching the fabric, rubbing it between his fingers. Sans left the cart to the side and out of the way, then made his way over.

“what are you looking for? shirts?” he asked. Edge hummed.

“A few shirts might be nice, I’m very low on them. Pants I think I’m good for…shoes? I haven’t had a new pair of shoes in…” he trailed off, looking to the side. He pulled out a black t-shirt, plain but comfy looking. “This could work.”

“sure,” Sans said, grabbing the shirt and double-checking the size before chucking it in the cart. “you don’t wanna try it on? they have changing rooms.”

“I’d rather not take my clothes off inside a store, thank you,” Edge said dryly, moving on to long-sleeved shirts. He took two identical ones and chucked them into the cart, surprisingly with no convincing needed from Sans and then, to Sans’ great surprise, he picked out a sunny yellow tank top and put it in the cart too.

“and here i thought you only wore black,” Sans asked, watching the selection process with renewed interest. Edge hummed, picking out a powder blue button-up, placing it against his ribcage for size, then with a click of his tongue putting it back.

“The guard uniform requires black or red clothes underneath the armour and most people wear black outside. but I can wear whatever I want at home or off-duty under my jacket,” Edge explained, picking out a red women’s top with a lace embroidered bottom. The size was too small across the shoulders, so Edge picked a bigger size and put that one in as well.

“really? not just a style for everyone?” Sans asked. He never really thought about this before. Red always wore black, with the occasional red shirt or socks, and Edge’s wardrobe so far was pretty monochromatic in black and gray. He just assumed it was some kind of fashion statement.

“Well, originally the black colour made it easier to hide, so everyone preferred those kinds of clothes. Then it became fashionable to wear black, and it’s not that difficult to dye clothes you find darker so it’s easy enough to do it yourself. But all black uniforms are very visible in the snow, so they’re kind of pointless back in Snowdin,” Edge said with a sigh. He selected a final pair of sweatpants-long and tight around the ankles and black-and then moved onto the shoes. “Dress code is dress code, I suppose, and it does hide stains well, at least.”

Edge scanned the shelves fast, stopping every so often to glare at a certain pair of shoes before moving on. Sans gave a cursory look to the salespeople, who seemed to be subtly avoiding the area they were in, then moved to follow Edge’s scrutinizing exploration.

Out of all the sensible shoes he expected Edge to stop at-the comfy sneakers that were good for running, semi stylish black boots that seemed functional still, even the slippers for home comfort-Edge finally stopped at the most flashy pair of knee-high, high-heeled boots made of faux leather Sans had ever seen. Edge seemed overwhelmingly excited, his breathing picking up as he gazed longingly at his own blurry reflection in them. Sans blinked once, then leaned down to sort through the boxes of shoes, lifting one box. “this is the largest number they have, I think.”

Edge grabbed the box like a child during Gyftmas, taking his old boots off and trying to shove the new pair on, hopping the entire time. It took him a stunningly short amount of time to stand up straight, vibrating in excitement as he watched his reflection in the mirror.

“This is the best day of my life,” Edge stated, voice almost shaky with emotion. Sans politely pretended he didn’t see the wetness gathering at the edges of his sockets. “Can I get these? Really?”

It was still too early in their friendship for Sans to feel comfortable roasting him, so he refrained and instead just gave him a thumbs up. Edge _squeaked_ , taking the boots off and putting them back in the box. He put the box carefully on top of all the other groceries, a place of honour, and then made his hopping way back to his own shoes and put them on.

“need anything else, edgelord? or can we go to the checkout?” Sans asked. Edge readjusted his jacket, picked out a final incredibly fluffy looking cardigan in a pale purple colour to add to the pile, and then nodded.

They headed to the checkout, Edge tensing up next to him again at the proximity of all the humans to them. The line was a bit slow, and it took a while to get all their things onto the conveyor belt since Sans had to first explain that it was safe and what it was for, but they managed to only gather a few annoyed glances at their slow going.

By the end they managed to pack up all their stuff in his bag of bags and the teenage cashier tried to maintain his customer service expression when Edge, too fast for Sans to intervene, tried to shove gold at him to pay.

“Sir, we don’t accept gold. We only accept dollars or credit cards,” he explained, with all the forced politeness of someone that doesn’t get paid enough to get handed monster gold for a box of cupcakes. Edge seemed confused, borderline horrified.

“Wh-but I only have gold, how am I supposed to-” he started, his mouth clicking shut as Sans interrupted the exchange by handing over a wad of cash. The kid looked at least a bit relieved at that and turned to count out the proper payment. Edge looked down at Sans, glaring.

“don’t worry, i’ve got it,” he said. Edge held his mouth shut, allowing Sans to take back his change with sullen silence and then grabbing nearly all the bags and immediately heading out the door. Sans followed him, only allowed to carry one measly bag, and caught up to Edge surprisingly fast. He looked the other skeleton over-he was out of breath, slightly flushed in his face from exertion.

“want me to take some of your bags?” he asked.

“I can carry them myself, thank you,” Edge spit out with enough irritation that Sans raised both his brows. The silence stretched on for a few moments before Edge stopped, taking a deep breath. “Sorry. Thank you for offering, I didn’t mean to snap.”

“i’m not mad. but what’s bothering you, edgelord? did i do something wrong?” Sans asked. Edge groaned, laying his bags down to the ground before facing him.

“No, no, you have been…amazingly accommodating and hospitable. I can’t ever thank you enough for how kindly you’ve treated me,” Edge started, raising his hand to silence Sans’ protest. “No, please don’t do the whole ‘it’s no problem’ thing. I know what the bare minimum is, and you’ve gone far beyond it. I’ve asserted myself into your home, eaten most of your food, haven’t been helping clean the house properly, and now I can’t even pay for-”

Sans’ sockets widened in panic as Edge’s own filled with tears, the same startling red as his magic, and he watched him look up at the sky and blink furiously, taking slow, even, wet breaths. Sans put his own bag down too, looking away to give him at least some semblance of privacy until he pulled himself together. This wasn’t his brother or Frisk he could just pull into a hug when they cried. As such, he was completely lost as to what to do.

It was a long, awkward time before Edge decisively sniffed and looked down at the ground, still blinking furiously, and gingerly wiped the edges of his sockets with the heel of his hand. “I won’t be able to repay you if you keep going like this. I already feel horrible for imposing myself so much, at least let me make it up to you _somehow_.”

“i don’t expect you to repay me at all. I’m not exactly subtle, edge, if i wasn’t ok with you staying in my house and eating my food I wouldn’t let you stay,” Sans explained. “I mean, if you wanna pay for stuff, fine. we can exchange some of your gold for surface cash, that way you can pay next time. but i don’t expect you to scrub my house clean or anything just because i’m letting you crash for a bit. that’s what friends are for, right?”

Edge looked at him, sockets turned down in a tired expression that broke Sans’ heart a little. He hated someone Papyrus’ age being this jaded about life. He hated the same person that got that innocently happy about a pair of boots looking like he was still trying to figure out what Sans wanted from him.

“…Alright. Let’s exchange the money,” Edge stated quietly. Sans nodded in agreement. There was a moment where he wanted to grab one of Edge’s bags, help the kid when he looked so exhausted, but he kept his hands to himself while Edge picked the bags back up. He’d pushed too much for one day. He didn’t want to upset him more.

“sure. then I’ll show you my special grilled cheese a la sans. you’ll love it.”

“I’m already terrified, thank you,” Edge replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never actually been to Walmart so take this with a grain of salt lmao


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's omelets for dinner tonight boys

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just. Be careful with this chapter, alright?

Edge dreamed of the egg today.

It started off in the way dreams do, sensible in the moment but really weird in retrospect, as he loaded his new, glowy green egg into a shopping kart, specifically the kid seat that previously held cupcakes. He looked fondly at his egg, scooting them into the children’s clothing section where he pulled out outfit after outfit and pressed them to the egg to check the size. He settled on a pretty red dress, which he pulled onto the egg, then made his way to the checkout. He tried to pay the monster cashier there who declined his money but politely let him through anyways.

Things got a little weird after that, with humans running after them to pay, Edge escaping with the egg and his shopping to Sans’ dingy little car and strapping them both in as he went into a wild car chase through the Underground. For some reason he ran over Sans on the way who wasn’t hurt and instead called him to ask him what he wanted for lunch afterwards, and then once he reached Waterfall Undyne joined the chase with her spears and-

He woke up, startled, taking long moments to figure out just where he was, why his room was so odd, until he remembered this was Papyrus’ room, he was crashing here, and he had just taken an impromptu nap to take a break from scrubbing the bathroom while Sans did some errands. Papyrus pushed himself up with a groan, cursing his ever-growing exhaustion. It wasn’t enough that he was knocked up, now thoughts of the egg were invading even his dreams.

He stood up, hesitating next to his duffel bag. The time window on his decision was closing in fast and Edge needed to make his mind up one way or the other before the choice was made for him. He dug out the small glass bottle with the magic disrupter, the powder strangely glittery in the daylight, and put it in his pocket. He headed back into the bathroom, where the rags and sponges were lying abandoned around the half-cleaned sink. He should really finish up, but the insignificant weight of the bottle in his pocket was too distracting.

He couldn’t escape reminders of the egg at any moment in his daily life. When he watched TV there were always commercials with smiling human children in them, making him wonder if life with a child was at all that pretty. When he walked outside in the fresh air with Sans, he noted every flower he saw, completely unlike the echo flowers he was familiar with, and wondered if his child would like them. When he carried a bag of rice up to the kitchen from the basement, he wondered if the egg would be heavier or lighter than it.

He had this half-formed idea of a child, a vaguely skeletal blob that made baby noises and liked sticking things in their mouth. The idea of them was so hard to even imagine clearly, but his feelings for them were painfully real. He was already attached to the idea of them, to their real presence on his soul. He was too far gone to get rid of them anymore. He wanted them, already loved the idea of them, and already he could feel a timid spark of excitement to meet the real them and see how the two differed.

All he needed to do was convince himself this was the right choice, because his heart had already chosen. That was much easier said than done, though.

For every daydream he had of enjoying his child’s company, teaching them new things, caring for them, he imagined two more worries and worst-case scenarios to rival it. He imagined himself and his brother robbed and kicked out of their house because of his loss of income and status from quitting the guard. He imagined still having his job with the guard but being at work so much his vague idea-child would look at him like a stranger whenever they saw him, or worse, with contempt. He imagined his egg cracking, the child dusting while he wasn’t looking, and he imagined having to keep them safe the way his brother kept them safe and them hating him for it-and only now did he realize the full depth of the pain he caused his brother, with his teenage rebellions and pain. He’d always felt bad for getting angry at him, but he never truly knew how painful it would be to have someone you care for reject you like that.

And what if he…stayed here? If Sans was to be believed, it was safer. But Sans was happy to tolerate his presence for a vacation, a few weeks, but that didn’t mean he’d put up with him in his house for months while he took care of his egg. He’d have to find a job and his own place to live eventually, but he had no marketable skills outside of being a guard-he didn’t even finish high school, for fuck’s sake! He had to drop out to join the guard, like most recruits did! Maybe the monsters here had their own guard he could rejoin, but then he’d have the same issues as back home, wouldn’t he, or maybe some other security job-

He took a deep breath, held it in, counted to five, then let it out slowly. He was terrified. This wasn’t a choice that would screw just him over. He could handle that, had been handling it for years now. Him and his brother could get back on their feet after getting knocked down, even if it hurt. But the child would be wholly dependent on him to keep them safe and happy and healthy, and he could easily, so very easily, let them get hurt in their harsh world. He could so easily hurt them, with his temper and poor word choices and lack of social graces. He wasn’t sure he could get back up from that. He wasn’t sure if it wasn’t selfish, to accept that risk for his child.

He grabbed the bottle in his pocket, watched the powder inside for a moment. Then, before he could change his mind once again, he unstopped it and poured it down the pristine toilet, giving it a good shake to dislodge the last bits of medicine, then threw the bottle in the trash, moving the tissues already in it on top to hide it from sight, and finally flushed the toilet.

His hands were shaking so hard he dropped the soap twice while he washed them, but when he looked at his reflection he was satisfied with the expression that greeted him. He wasn’t relieved, if anything he was more terrified than ever before. But this felt like the right thing to do, and he was determined. He would figure this out, no matter what. No matter the cost.

It took him much longer to finish the bathroom than it normally would. By the time he finally dragged himself down to the living room couch and flung himself onto the cushions with a groan, it was dinnertime. Sans, having apparently ported back onto the couch at some point, snickered at his dramatics, pausing his channel surfing on a random documentary movie about the sea.

“I finished cleaning the bathroom,” Edge exclaimed, melting into the couch cushions. “I can make dinner if you give me a minute.”

“nah, it’s alright. and thanks for the bathroom,” Sans replied, taking another swig of his iced tea. “do _you_ want something to eat? I can make you something before I head out for my shift.”

Edge eyed the clock. It was past their usual dinnertime, actually, but for once he wasn’t hungry, just very, very tired. Still, he needed to keep his strength up. “I…would appreciate that, Sans. If you’re alright with it.”

“sure,” Sans replied as he got off the couch with an _oomph_ and headed towards the kitchen. Edge felt a momentary pang of guilt, that he should go in there and take over while Sans took a break, but he was so tired and his soul was still anxiously vibrating with aftershocks of his decision, and the clang of dishes was soothing and homey. It only took him a few more moments before he started slipping into a doze, waking up and drifting off for a while until he was finally roused by Sans’ quiet “get your grub, edgelord”.

He rubbed his sockets as he took his seat, enjoying the smell of the fresh grilled cheese sandwich. Sans was right, they _were_ pretty good. Edge dug in, for once not attacking his meal but savouring it instead, enjoying the food but also the sound of Sans eating next to him and the warm, welcoming mood of the room. They ate in silence, which was somewhat novel to Edge but pretty nice, he decided.

It was when he was nearing the end of his sandwich that he felt a flash of discomfort, as if his soul rolled-no, not rolled, more like pinched. He blinked, trying to feel it out, but it passed like it never happened. Perplexed, he finished his sandwich and took his and Sans’ plate to the sink before the shorter skeleton could protest, starting to clean them and the other plates and dishes he hadn’t gotten around to earlier. It was when he was on the frying pan that he felt the pinch again, stronger this time, and he had to pause for a moment, distracted by the discomfort. It was a strange sensation he hadn’t felt before, his first instinct being that he might be nauseous, but he had none of the accompanying clamminess or magic sparking in his mouth.

He finished up all the dishes and then realized he hadn’t put away the ingredients Sans had used to make the sandwiches in his distracted state, so he got on that, still wondering at the strange sensation. Bread in the apparently previously unused breadbox, cheese in the fridge…He closed the fridge door and checked the many papers on it. There was a grocery list there that he needed to update with the snacks he had already demolished, and there was a calendar too, with a bright yellow trim and drawings of ducks. Papyrus wondered how long he’d been in this world. A week already? Time had blurred together, and it hadn’t been long-

Edge’s thoughts screeched to a halt. He placed his finger on today’s date, then started counting backwards, back to the day he came here, then further, all the way back to the day his last heat started. He felt his soul sink, a wholly new wave of panic rising.

He’d miscalculated. He didn’t know how, panic maybe, guard duties distracting him on top of his worries, but he’d miscalculated. His due date wasn’t soon, it was two days ago.

His soul pinched, a bit harder and a bit longer than last time.

“edge? you alright? you’ve been standing there for a while,” Sans called out, making Edge flip around into a wide-legged stance. Sans seemed ready to head into his job, if his crooked uniform was to be believed, but his raised eyebrow belied that he wasn’t moving until he got an answer. Edge could feel sweat run down the curve of his spine.

“Fine! I’m fine! Peachy, even!!!” he exclaimed, gently coaxing Sans by placing his hands on his shoulders and steering him towards the front door. “You should get going to your job, so you’re not late! Again.”

“sure. i’ll be back real early in the morning, so don’t wait up.”

“Of course!” Edge exclaimed, sockets tightening as his soul pinched again, making him wince for a moment before he could get his expression under control. Sans looked at him, looked deep and hard and almost as if he was looking into Edge’s soul. With a sigh and a shrug, he bent down to put proper shoes on-apparently he would be fired if he came in wearing slippers-then stuck his hands into his pockets. Edge let out the breath he had been holding. He would be eternally grateful to whatever higher power decided to make Sans not pry.

“welp, I’m going. And edge?” he said, fixing him with his gaze, surprisingly serious. “call me if you need anything, alright?”

For a moment Edge hesitated, his soul jittering in panic and discomfort and his determination wavering. He was scared. Really scared. He wanted someone to be with him, hold his hand, talk him through this because he sure as fuck had no idea how this would work. He didn’t want to do this alone.

But he wasn’t a babybones, and he already decided he was going to do this no matter what. Too late to get cold feet now. “Of course. Have a good night, Sans.”

Sans grinned in reply, which Edge couldn’t resist giving a little quirk of his mouth in return, and then he was gone. Just in time, as the pinch once again returned, this time intense enough that Edge’s breath hitched and he squeezed his sockets shut, waiting for it to pass. He panted to catch his breath a few times, then carefully, holding the railing, made his way upstairs.

He didn’t know much about the egg laying process. He heard it wasn’t very painful, but it was uncomfortable, exhausting, and above all messy. His first thought was to try and have it in the bathtub, but when Edge tried to fold himself into the porcelain, he realized the tub was a bit too small for him. He glared at his kneecaps, standing high above the edges of the tub, and cursed how narrow and cramped it was. If it was for a brisk bath he’d suck it up and deal with it, but he probably needed more space to lay an egg.

His next idea was Papyrus’ room. He already cringed internally, hoping the mess wouldn’t be too bad, but he didn’t have anywhere better and the pinches were starting to grow further apart while increasing in length and intensity. He picked up the pace, grabbing towels and sheets to hopefully keep spillage to a minimum and laid them onto the bed. He considered rolling up the rug and giving birth on the floor, so as to not risk ruining the mattress, but even with all the blankets he piled up it was still too hard and uncomfortable and the pinches were activating his senses in a horrible way, making every slight discomfort much more annoying, like how a bad headache made an itchy shirt much harder to bear.

He kicked the covers to the side to make space for the towel layer, then piled on towels, sheets and prayers until he figured the mattress was as protected as it could get. After that he shut the bedroom door, dimmed the headache-inducing light, and waited.

The discomfort of the pinches-his soul contracting, siphoning magic towards the soulling to help them make a shell and slowly easing them off his own-was growing steadily and without halting. He had heard right, it wasn’t necessarily a painful sensation, but it was so uncomfortable he could feel tears pricking his sockets and his head swam with the loss of magic. As the contractions of his soul ramped up, he was unsure if he was losing time from being distracted and his adrenaline kicking in or if he was passing out every so often, he just knew he would lull into quiet as his soul relaxed and wake right up as it started.

He had no idea how long this had been going on, his phone too far away to reach, but just as the discomfort was starting to ramp up into pain, his soul materialized in front of him, an action as involuntary as a sneeze, pulsing with effort. Edge stared at it with distant horror-the soulling was barely hanging on and was covered by a semi-translucent mass of his own magic, swirling around it and encasing it protectively. It was a disturbing sight, to see the foreign soul and mass on his own soul, but it didn’t last long- it only took a few more contractions before the soulling wobbled completely out, their connection severing, and Edge blacked out.

He came to an indeterminate amount of time later, panting in exertion. His body felt drained, his bones aching like he got beat up and his joints feeling loose, like they were about to fall apart. Edge was no stranger to magic exhaustion, but he had never had it this bad before. Focusing his eye lights, Edge felt the beginnings of panic brew as he looked around, ignoring his magic spilled everywhere until his sight landed on the egg.

The glowing, familiar red magic-his magic- made up the shell, now grown opaque to the point that he couldn’t see the soul nestled inside, and it was about the size of a basketball or a snow poff. Moving slowly, his sapped energy barely allowing him to stay upright, he leaned forward to hover above the egg. He wiped off his face with his hands, a mixture of what was probably some drool and was definitely sweat, then wiped his hands onto the towels underneath him, soiled through. He reached towards the egg, hesitating, before he very lightly touched the surface of it.

The magic shell was thin, almost rubbery, and pretty malleable still-but it was quickly growing harder, more like a proper shell and something that wouldn’t pop if touched too hard. He watched as it slowly changed colour, irregular blotches of red lightening up on its surface, new patterns emerging on the previously uniform colour. Edge cradled the egg in his hands, making sure his grip was butterfly gentle but steady, before lifting the egg up and depositing it closer to his pillow. He held his breath as he carried it, only breathing again once he carefully put it down and cradled it in a blanket pile so it wouldn’t roll away.

The egg had been light, not nearly as heavy as Edge expected a monster egg to be. For a moment he wondered if something was wrong, if maybe the egg was somehow empty of any baby inside, but he couldn’t think straight long enough to panic. He collapsed onto his side, face towards the egg, then wrapped his arm loosely around it. He didn’t feel that pulse of magic people talked about eggs making, but he watched the blotches on the shell grow into a lighter, more vibrant orange to contrast the dark red of his own magic, the entire egg glowing brightly in the dark room.

He ran his fingers over the shell, already feeling firm under his bones. Huh. He did it. There was a baby developing in there, wasn’t it? Edge’s baby. But he was so tired, his vision blurry, his arms too weak to pull the covers up and settle in, so instead of pondering he shuffled the egg closer to his bare ribcage, holding it gently to his chest, near his still-summoned soul. His mind was slowing, his body protesting, but all he could do was slip into the darkness again, his egg warm against his bones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Edge isn't dying, don't worry. He did, however, do a colossally stupid thing and got very lucky he survived.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments make my day!


End file.
